AS soon as I wake in the Morning, saith she, I throw my self into the arms of my heavenly love, as a child into the arms of his father. I rise with a design to serve and please him. And if I have time to pray, I fall upon my knees in his holy presence, and speak to him, as if I really saw him with my bodily eyes. I give my self up wholly to him, and desire him, to fulfil all his holy will in me, and that he would not suffer me that day to do the least thing which might be offensive to him. Then I recommend to him all the pray­ers which shall be made that day. In short: I love, and praise him as much and as long as my affairs permit; tho' very often I have hardly so much time as to say the Lord's Prayer. But I do not trouble my self about that; for I have God always in my heart, as well when I am about my business, which I do in obedience to his will, as when I retire on purpose to pray to him. This he himself has taught me, that whatever I do out of love to him, is a real prayer.

I dress myself in his presence, and he shews me that his love supplies me with raiment. And when I go a bout my business, even then doth he not forsake me, nor I him; but he converses with me, and I with him; yea, I am then as much united to him, as when I am at my prayers, set apart on purpose for my spiritual recollec­tion. O! how sweet and easy is all labour and toil in such good company! Sometimes I perceive such strength and support in my mind, that nothing is too hard for me, and I think myself alone able to manage the affairs of the whole family. Nothing but the body is at work, the heart and myself burn with love in the sweet familiarity I entertain with God.

I eat and drink in his presence, as I do every thing [Page 7] else, and it is as if I dipp'd every bit into the precious blood of my Saviour, and as if he himself gave me food, on purpose to inflame my love, and to engage it the more to himself. I leave you to judge, what effect this must have upon my soul. Indeed it is impossible for any body to express it but God himself. As for me, my whole life would never be sufficient to give an account of it.

Whan I am about my business in the day time, run­ning up and down, till the body begins to be weary, or to repine, or to desire unseasonable rest, being oppressed with anger and uneasiness; my divine love enlightens me forthwith, and shews me, how I ought to suppress those rebellious motions of corrupt nature, and not to nourish them at all, either by word or deed. This love keeps the door of my lips, and watches over my heart, that it may not in the least contribute to such irregular passions, which thus are crushed and subdu'd as soon as they rise.

But if at any time, for want of care, I am surprised with these or the like faults, I cannot be at rest, till I have ob­tained pardon, and God be reconciled to me. I lie pro­strate before his footstool, confessing all my faults to him, as if he did not know them already; and there I continue, till he has forgiven me, renewed his friendship with me, and confirm'd it more than before. For so it always hap­pens through his infinite mercy, whenever I have com­mitted a fault, which serves but to inflame my heart more and more with his divine love. If people persecute me, and by foul and uncharitable censures raise scandals upon me, or any other way aff [...]ict me; or if evil spririts attack me with their crafty cunning temptations, I then present­ly run to my heavenly LOVE, who readily stretches forth his sacred arms to receive me, shewing me his heart and wounds open for my security; in which I hide my self as in a strong castle and fortress. And then I am so mightily strengthned, that if the whole army of hell itself, together with all the creatures, should rise up against me, I fear them no more than a fly, because I am under the protec­tion of the most high God, his love being the hiding-place and safe-guard of my soul.

If God at any time hides his face, making as if he would [Page 8] go away from me, I tell him: ‘O! 'tis no matter, my love, conceal thyself as much as thou pleasest, never­theless I'll serve thee; for I know that thou art my God.’ And then I stand upon my guard more than ever, to be faithful to him, for fear of displeasing my love. And at the same time perceiving the greatness of my misery and po­verty, I insist the more upon the merits of our Saviour, and resolve to rest contented, tho' it should please him to leave me all the days of my life in such a condition. But he never lets me continue long under these circumstan­ces, and if I may venture so to speak, he cannot forbear loving me, any more than I can live without him.

At his return he recompenses the little moment of his absence with so many caresses and endearments, that of­tentimes I am not able to bear them, but am forced to cry out: ‘I can receive no more! wherefore I desire him to moderate my sensation, or else to let me die under the powerful sense of his gracious presence.’

Many times, to bear this the better, I leave all, retiring into a corner to ease myself, by giving vent to the tears and praises due to his Majesty, wherewith my heart is overcharged. And this I may do very well, since it is not the mere sense of his kindness I long for, but rather HIM­SELF ALONE, that I desire to enjoy. Altho' in the mean time one ought thankfully to receive these extraordinary tokens of God's mercy and love, if it be his holy will so to deal with us.

If I am persuaded on holidays, to be merry in compa­ny, I excuse myself. For nothing can be compared to the pleasures of my love, which are so much the sweeter and greater, for my withdrawing from all company what­soever. If they wonder, how I can stay always at home alone, I think within myself: ‘O! if you knew the glori­ous company I have, you would not say that I was alone: for I am never less alone, than when I have no body with me.’

After this manner I spend not only working days, but holy days too, being often as much employed in the latter as in the former. But that is no hindrance to me, to whom labour and rest, hard work and easy, all things are indif­ferent, [Page 9] since I do not look upon what I have to do, but upon him, for whose sake I do it. I am so taken up with his love, that I have no time to mind my self, nor any thing else but him alone.

But if I do any thing amiss, or out of season, the same moment I feel a violent pain and sorrow for what I have done, springing from my love, which also makes me pre­sently hope for pardon; so that thinking of it no more, I go strait forward on my way, turning aside neither to the right hand, nor to the left. Neither do I remember what is past, or to come, but only, that I may love God to the utmost of my power.

The night coming on, and every one going to rest, I find rest only in the arms of divine love: I sleep leaning on his holy breast, like a child in his mother's bosom. I say, I go to sleep, but being still busied about the love and praises of my God, till I fall quite asleep. Many times this love rouzes up all my senses, so that I cannot sleep the greatest part of the night, but I spend it in the embraces of the lovely grace of God, which never forsakes such a poor miserable creature as I am, but preserves me, and takes special care of me.

If in the night the evil spirits hover about, to torment or to surprise me (which often happens) this divine love guards me, and fights for me. Yea, it gives me grace, too, to resist them couragiously, as if I were awake. For they seldom continue long to assault me, unless it be in my sleep.

And this is the life I have led for these twenty years past, without perceiving the least change of that love which was poured out into my heart, after my sincere conver­sion unto him. Nay, I have observed its daily increase, tho' every day it seemed impossible to endure any addition to what I already enjoyed. But truly, it is an infinite love, which satisfies and nourishes me, so that every day I have a new hunger, tho' methinks I can receive no more, than what I possess already every moment.

THE author of her life says, concerning the manner of her expressions, that they were always very modest, with­out any noise or vehemence: her common discourses were always holy and edifying; whereas others too commonly [Page 10] misspend their time in useless conversation and unprofitable talk. If she was in company, where they talk'd of indiffer­ent or evil things, she had the faculty of giving them such a handsome turn, as to bring them quite off from that to some good and useful subject.

For a long while she could bear no other discourse but of God, and his holy love. I cannot imagine, said she, how a soul created for heaven can be concerned about the dross of this world. From that time, if she happened to be in com­pany, where the subject of the discourse was but indiffer­ent, either she did not mind it at all, entertaining herself in the mean while with God; or, as soon as she thought it proper, she diverted and changed the discourse; thinking it but lost time, which was spent in the trifles of this world.

To every body, that had a mind to be acquainted with God Almighty, she gave this advice: ‘To be silent, and to learn to keep their thoughts together in the center of the heart: for this, said she, is the beginning of our union with God, and by these means the soul forgets earthly things, and raises herself up to the contemplation of heavenly ob­jects. We ought to lose our familiarity with the crea­tures, if we desire to anjoy the conversation of the Crea­tor; a moment of which doth afford more delight and sa­tisfaction, than all the finest discourses in the world.’

SHE declared once, that she did by no means encourage any desire of knowing what did not concern herself. When a certain person ask'd her, whether she did not know such a story, that the town rang of at that time? ‘she answered, no; and gave God thanks, that she never knew any thing of the news of this world, neither did she desire to know it. But she knew a great deal of news concerning the love and mercies of Almighty God. For this she said was the only thing she desired to know, and wherewith her heart was entirely taken up.’

The real [...] she had of the inward and spiritual life of grace, and of the manifold operations it is attended with, doth abundantly apear from the larger account of her life and conversion. To give the reader a taste there of may suffice for the present:

One time when her mistress was afraid that Armelle was [Page 11] like to run quite mad by an excess of devotion, she forbad her all spiritual exercises, and would not let her go even to church, except on the Lord's day only: Armelle being sen­sible of the false step her [...]tress took, smiled with herself, saying, ‘Truly, I am not mad, after I have found my be­loved, whom I now love with all my heart. I remember a time when I was seeking only God without me, and than I was mad indeed.’ This mistress of hers being of a sour and morose humour, shew'd a deal of ill-nature to Armelle, of which, however she never complain'd, but ra­ther thanked God, that he was pleased to make this a means of her fuller purification. When her friends seeing what she suffered in that house, advised her one time, entire­ly to quit that place, she replied according to her usual earnestness: ‘Why would you have me flee from the cross which the Lord himself has entailed upon me? No, by no means: I shall never do it, except you absolu­tely command it. If I should undergo a thousand times as much, I shall never forsake the place for all that, but ra­ther stay till they turn me away by force.’ In which un­expected answer they acquiesced, never prompting her again to quit a place, where she had daily opportunity to practise Patience and Self-denial; virtues so much contrary to the whole bent of corrupt nature, and yet so necessary for rightly framing a Christian life and con­versation. At another time she said: ‘If the soul be but well grounded in the favour of God, and lively affected with the operations of his grace, all the insults of the devil, and of the creature, are born with joy and comfort. But that is misery indeed, when the Lord himself withdraws from the soul, and lets her shift for herself. Then she thinks, that every step is a step into sin and corruption, be­ing utterly unable to protect herself against it.’

In what company soever she was, she talked of nothing more than of being faithful to God. Nothing dropped more from her mouth, than Let us be faithful, let us be faithful to the Lord. This word she thought fit for any time, and suitable to every company. Now and then she would re­peat it an hundred times over; and being asked by her friends, whether she had nothing else to say: She answer'd: [Page 12] ‘Don't wonder at my saying this over and over again. If I should live a thousand years, I should still tell ye the same thing. For 'tis faithfulness, wherein the perfection of a Christian life consists.’

Of the constraining power of the divine love she has the following expression: ‘Whenever I happened to adhere a little too much to my natural inclinations (apt to steal in upon the mind under the specious pretence of necessity) I was immediately reproved by the love of God. This di­vine love is like a careful tutor, who takes all the pains imaginable, for advancing his pupil in the way of learning he is engaged in; and for this reason keeps his eye con­stantly fixed on him, both to correct his failings, though never so small, and to prevent his being led away by any thing that might divert him from his chief employment. Thus, says she, dealt the Lord with me. He kept me close­ly confined to an holy awe and wariness; and when I hap­pened by one oversight or other to withdraw, as it were, from his eye, he in that very moment pursued after me, and recall'd me to my duty. But all this was done with so much love and tenderness, that it must be a heart of brass, if not mollified by such endearing marks of love and kindness.’

Of the disorderly love to friends and relations, which now and then even well-disposed souls are too much guilty of, she gives the following account: ‘One time, says she, my parents came to see me; when I entertain'd them, I found my self transported with some vain joy and pleasure, and somewhat coldish in minding the impressions of the love of God; nay, it seem'd as if the Lord himself did in a manner withdraw from me, to let me have as it were, the more liberty for the present. But no sooner my parents were gone, and I come to myself, the burden and afflicti­on I then felt upon my spirit, was heavy enough, since I did not find him whom I lov'd more than my own soul. However, as soon as I came home, I felt again a noble re­turn of the divine love, and it was, as if the Lord had wai­ted for me on purpose, to communicate himself unto me.’ After this she freely confess'd, that from that very time she found herself entirely freed from all manner of irregular ad­herency [Page 13] to her parents, whom she was too fond of hereto­fore, being now only taken up with the grand concern of promoting the more spiritual part of her friends and fellow-creatures: ‘Thus, says she, the love of God made every thing, nay even my very faults and imperfections, re­dound to my greater spiritual good and welfare.’

'Twas mention'd before, how earnest she was in exhor­ting every one to be faithful unto the Lord with what he had received. This faithfulness recommended by her unto others, she was a most shining pattern of herself in her whole Life and conversation. But it most visibly appeared in that unwearied readiness and quickness she dispatch'd any thing tending to promote the glory of God in her station. No sooner was she convinc'd of the will of God, but was very earnest and diligent, to answer it presently. She often won­der'd at some peoples dilatory doings in the service of God, and said, it was a cunning fetch and stratagem of the devil, to make people put off from one day to another such designs as might serve to advance the glory of God, and the good of our fellow creatures. ‘For, said she, it often hap­pens, that that grace which at one hour offers itself to a man, in order to support him under some difficult enterprises, is not so easily met with at another time. And besides this, how uncertain is our life! nay, if we were sure to live lon­ger, yet ought we not to linger upon that account at all, nor to defer from one day to another what might be done this day. A man that is full of delays in the service of God, must needs have but little love at the bottom. Wherever love is raised to any considerable degree, there the soul can't rest, whilst there remains any thing to be done requir'd by the Beloved. And this dilatory temper, said she, was a great impediment in the way to perfection. Many souls were convinc'd of the will of God, but being too back­ward constantly to struggle against the corrupt propensi­ons of their dull and lazy t [...]mper, they made but a slow progress in the work of religion. They say, to-morrow, to-morrow it shall be done in good earnest; but that to-morrow never comes. The consequence whereof is, that the longer they flatter themselves in their disorderly and wonted customs, the less able they are to resist them [Page 14] at last at all: the Lord leaves them now to their own will, since they did not improve faithfully what once they had receiv'd.’

THE virtue of humility was as remarkable in this holy maid as any of the rest; and it was grounded on a true and solid foundation too. She confesses herself, that the infi­nite love of God kept her undefiled as to the vanity of pride; insomuch that she did not know what pride and haughtiness was. ‘I was astonished, says she, when I was told to watch against pride; for I thought whilst I was well in my wits, I could not possibly be proud. I was so fully convinced that any thing really good was from God, that if all angels and men had offer'd to persuade me to the contrary, I should never have believ'd them. And this sense fortified me against all manner of pride and presump­tion, my own conscience never charging me with the least guilt of that vice, and I could not imagine how it was pos­sible, that men should attempt so heinous a thing as this.’ And this was the reason, that she never would quit that manner of life she was bred to, though mean and contemp­tible in the eye of the world.

Even her spiritual friends would now and then most im­portunately intreat her, to resign up to any body else her place (which was that of a servant) and this under a fair pretence too, viz. That she might have the more leisure to give herself up to a contemplative life, and thus to enjoy the favours and gracious infusions of the Lord more abun­dantly. And indeed there wanted no opportunity of at­taining such a quiet retirement, as some had cut out for her. But she could never be prevailed with to comply. She had too high and esteem for her low condition. ‘She said, she should never do such a thing, except she was vi­sibly convinced of the will of God. For tho' her station was but mean, yet was she more pleas'd with it, than with all the prayers and contemplations she perhaps might enjoy in the most concealed solitude of the world. She said, her outward employment and all the drugery she was put to, did not at all cool or weaken the sense of the love, and of the gracious presence of the Lord, she usual­ly enjoyed. Nay, the more fervent she was to spend her­self [Page 15] entirely in works of charity, chearfully complying with every thing incident to her life, the more plentiful incomes she had of the love and favour of God. Hence, it would be but the effect of a false heart, if one should make bold to quit his outward employment, in order to gain more rest and quiet in another place, God, says she, knows ways to find souls wherever they be, if they do not wilfully shut their hearts against him.’

Because her love to God was great and fervent, the love she bore to her fellow creatures, was also wonderfully in­fluenc'd and inflam'd thereby. When she consider'd the woful state of the wicked, and the dreadful judgment that is like to befal them at last, she then felt a most tender and commiserating love, and her very bowels began to yearn for compassion. When she look'd upon the happy state she was arriv'd to, and the severe doom attending such profli­gate wretches, she used to say, ‘She seemed unto herself like one that had been in a great storm at sea, and by stress of weather like to be cast away every minute; but get­ting off at last safe and sound, remember'd now ashore the dangers his bretheren and near relations were still exposed to, being toss'd up and down in the huge ocean, and left to the mercy of the roaring billows. Alas! said she, thus it is with me, when I lay to heart the danger sinners run themselves into. For the more endearing marks of divine grace the Lord has been pleased to bestow upon me, the more fervent is my desire, that also others might partake of the same with me.’

AND now, ye learned men, and refin'd wits of the age, come hither and admire the ignorance and simplicity of this poor country maid! Consider how far she exceeds your high flown superficial wisdom, and the dark flashes of human wit [...]nd learning? And was it possible for her to attain to this heavenly wisdom and divine knowledge, to such a noble­ness and elevation of mind, without the scraps and assist­ance of artificial learning and philosophy? then truly, there must be another school wherein those that look unto the Lord (Ps. xxxiv. 5.) are lightned. Indeed, to know the love of Christ, passeth all knowledge, Eph. iii. 19. Concerning which our Saviour was pleas'd thus to express his grateful [Page 16] sentiments with hearty joy, and heavenly triumph: I thank thee, O Father, lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast reveal­ed them unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight, Matt. xi. 25, 26. For it is written (says St. Paul) I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to no­thing the understanding of the prudent. Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? But God hath chosen the foolish things of this world, to con­found the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world, to confound the things which are mighty. And base things of the world, and things which are despised hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are. That no flesh should glory in his presence, 1 Cor. i. 19, 20, 27, 28, 29. Isa. xxix. 14. Chap. xxxiii. 18.

Laurentius de la resurection, in his spiritual letters, says: ‘I desire you to remember what I have often recommended to you, viz. That you do not forget God, day nor night, in all your employments and exercises, nor in your bodi­ly refreshments. He is always present with you, do not let him stay alone. It would be very uncivil to leave a friend alone by himself that came to see you. Why will you do so with God? Pray do not forget him; think of­ten upon, pray to him without ceasing; live and die with him. This is the best work a Christian can be em­ployed about. In short, it is our profession, our trade and calling.’

‘If we do not know it, we must learn it: we must deny all that doth not tend to the glory of God, and [...] ourselves to a continual, familiar and humble con­versation and intercourse with him. And withal, to pre­vent our souls swerving from it upon any occasion what­soever, our heart must be the spiritual temple, wherein we continually offer up our prayers. We must watch ourselves narrowly, that we may neither do, nor speak, nor think, whatever may be displeasing to him.’ Col. iv. 2. Ch. iii. 17.